Is this a fact? We only listen to the radio when we're driving with 2 respective friends who generally listen to homemade mix CDs or a classic rock station in their cars, so we can't really comment on this. For the record, in the last 10 years we've listened to Nevermind, on average, about twice a year, and still feel it holds up, long after the hype has subsided. The Unplugged disc has aged even better. Despite meaning to, we rarely ever listen to Bleach or In Utero--gotta put 'em on the iPod--but appreciate them both, especially the latter.
Interestingly, then and now, of our friends with similar taste in music, most who had disparaging things to say about Nirvana were--by far--white. Don't know what that means but we find it curious, nonetheless. (While in Mexico City when In Utero came out we got to experience how the kids really took to it down there. Not as much as they loved Morrissey, but that's another thing altogeter.)
Which brings us to a point often overlooked, or ignored: many Gen X-ers of color not only dug the Seattle/alt-rock of the late '80s/early '90s but also felt a sense of inclusion. Ex: Two black buddies of ours were on hand at a Motley Crue in-store signing at a NYC Tower Records in the late '80s, and as the only non-whites there, were met with confused stares by their fellow Crue fans. (The band, however, greeted them quite warmly.) Meanwhile, the original Soundgarden lineup had an Asian bassist and an Indian guitarist. And of course, there was James Iha, David Pajo, Joey Santiago, etc. etc.
A rock guitarist--and Haitian--friend of ours once said he could never relate to the hair bands on the magazine covers--or the ones with similar musical influences, whose "guitarist wanted" ads he'd answer, only to be turned down without playing a lick when they saw what he looked like--but "these other guys" made him feel welcome; like he was a part of something. After all, no one at a Nirvana concert was gonna say to him, "Hey dude, you're at the wrong show: LL Cool J is tomorrow night."
